The Blue House of 1478 (24) (Patreon)

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As much as I hope otherwise, Hunter might end up hailing victory on his assertion of Levi's character.  As he said, I don't have a knack for predicting the mind of men - and that includes my understanding of myself.

I consider that as raindrops smatter against my chilled skin.

What other option do I really have?

My nose is running.  I blink the onslaught of downpour from my eyes, risking a hand off my bike handles to wipe at my cold nose.

I think.  I think of a lot, the wind in my rainjacket hood deafening.  I consider the words of a friend who truly only cares, watching the shore glitter beyond the coastal trail on the bike ride home.

But I trust my gut.   I don't listen to my friend.   Perhaps it's a personality flaw.

I wouldn't catch it, of course.

—

So, I orchestrate an ambush.

Levi is unpredictable in every way, aside from his schedule. He loves to spend his evenings at the library, a fact I noticed not by active stalking - but instead, by my shared enjoyment of a Liza-less evening.

Levi strolls in with the bell from hell around 5 pm for three days straight, and all I have to do to figure this out is to sit at the tables and reread E.L. Gorm's unfinished miniseries, Devil in the Mist.  I continue my reading on the fourth day with an agenda — then finish quicker than expected, agonizing over an open ending, a red vine sticky with saliva propped between my teeth.

It works out, regardless, because 5 pm hits yet again, and the entrance chimes with Levi.   He closes his umbrella and shakes it off before he enters, wrapping it in a dry little baggy from his pocket.  He looks a little different to me, today — and instead of antagonizing me, my plant gift seems to have softened our relationship into him simply ignoring my existence.

Whatever.

Except, being ignored is weird.  I'm not being cursed for living, but thanks to that, there's no natural open to approaching Levi — and, well, too bad for that and my rancid social skills, because what do I do now?

Wave?

I frown, stuffing the candy into my mouth and patting myself off — ready to stage a run-in on whatever aisle Levi decides to make his way into today.  I consider tripping over his big foot, pretending to read and slamming into his bigger back, or sneezing and awaiting a polite, bless you.

Unfortunately, he's begun to frequent the criminology section of the library, which is quite possibly the most challenging section for me to feign a sneeze in.  It just doesn't feel right.  By the time he's made his way from the aisle, I've stuck two heavy books under my armpit from the mystery section, finished my tea, and have no idea what to do next.

I frown again.

His reading patterns make the slightest sense, but he's constantly taking notes. He sits down, alone, of course, at one of the big oak roundtables in the common area — way in the back, and far from where I was once casually seated up front.

I sigh.

Levi gently manages to set down a textbook with absolutely no noise and spreads it open like a wanna-be professor. That's right.  Because, Levi likes to take notes for some godforsaken reason.  No other regular seems to frequent right before closing hours, and his mechanical pencil scribbling in a little wired journal sounds loud and squeaky in the silence.

Maybe he's going through schooling, I think, before realizing there are no colleges placed even remotely close; just Jameson community college a few towns over and Adeline's elite intercity college even further from that,

And then I think —

Maybe his affinity for being wildly neurotic transfers over to his reading material.

Then, kinder, I consider the possibility of online schooling.

I watch him, darker from time spent in his garden, I'm sure — his lashes downcast, text stealing the enigma of his expressive regard.  I lean into the wood, my arms sore from cradling books I don't plan to read, and my brows gather.

Levi.  He looks sort of kind when no one else is around.  Gentle and quiet, contemplative.  He taps his pencil against his notebook, shakes his head, and erases something.  He does it again.  Then he grows frustrated, and crosses something out.

There's a significant pause from Levi's squeaky writing utensil and a roll of his jaw — then, a slight smirk follows. He exhales through his nose, and shakes his head a second time. He makes a show of changing out the graphite of his mechanical pencil, gaze meeting mine directly — brilliantly grey-blue and damning.

Oh.

So he knew that —

Great.

Levi sighs.  He manages to have an air of challenge about him while simultaneously looking downright aloof, and that grinds every gear inside of my body.

I gaze purposefully back at him, peeking over the top of a mystery book that I've spread inauspiciously between my hands.

I'm hoping that instead of awkwardly taking the steps towards initiating conversation, his hatred towards my staring will incite some snarky comment from my lawn-rival, and we can journey down that argument until somehow I find a roof over my head.

"... You're way too obvious not to want something," Levi keeps his voice quiet, just low enough, but it catches an employee's attention.  She turns to us for a moment, pausing her sorting of books, before she's distracted again, "So. What do you want, Theodore?"

Bingo!

I smile, closing my book prop and thumping it against my thigh.

"Who says I want something?" I simper, only because this attitude is familiar.  I try to add the comfort of the playfulness, the tone I use on Kia and Hunter, "Unless you're going to buy me curly fries and a nice house?"

"Doubtful."

"... Do basic human greetings escape you?  Wanna say, hi, how are you, Theodore?"

I raise my brows when Levi scoffs, then he clicks at the eraser head noisily, settling his cheek on his palm.

He looks bored.

My pseudo-ego wilts.

"Are you so proud that you say that instead of hello?" He tuts his tongue when I fluster, "I'm going to take that as a —"

"Anyway," I cut him off, striding up with as much false confidence as I can possibly muster.

This isn't meant to turn into a real fight, dammit.

Then, I circle his desk, plopping down on the seat across from him,

"I've been thinking that we should start over."

"Oh, yeah?" His gaze sweeps over me.  Well, as much as he can manage from my seated position.  He considers my suggestion with a shrug.  "... Wouldn't be a bad idea."

"Since you know, we live pretty close."

"True." He unscrews the cap of his water bottle and stares at me — but lets me steam in my awkwardness like a nice piece of limp broccoli. Then, he takes an unnecessarily long swig of the drink, crinkling the plastic loudly as I wrinkle my nose.

"And I deliver your paper."

"Albeit badly."

"Share the same breathing air —"

"More than I'd like."

"Unfortunately, share a kind of similar age and need for a roof over my head. You're the only person I could think of who is not nearing death or possibly charging an absurdly high price for your talcum powder-scented abode — so I'm going to ignore everything you're saying."

"No idea what you're going on about, but you're cuter when you aren't boppin' around on your bicycle and making my life hell, so — I'll let it go." Levi shrugs, and I blush instantly, snorting in a very unattractive, elephant-like way,

"Oh.  Uh.  Also, ignoring that."

"Shouldn't." Levi shrugs again with a grin, and my face feels ten degrees hotter than a healthy human being should.  "We made a truce.  You told me it was love at first sight, yeah?"

I clear my throat.

I can't think he's smooth.

He's Levi!

"Right.  Yes.  I think I've taken the small steps towards repairing our terrible relationship, like improving my aim, bringing you a nice plant, and other things that I can't think of right now," I take in a quick inhale of air, enough that I feel a little lightheaded and reach my hand out,  "so in turn, I'd maybe — Uh.  Kind of want you to consider living with me."

It all comes out too fast and winded, and altogether, much less cool than I was hoping it'd be.

Oh well, maybe I'll get hit by a car in the parking lot.

Levi startles, his reach for my not-so-casual handshake faltering,

"...What?"

"Well, don't say no right away, okay?"  I grab his hand and shake it hard, regardless that it feels like a handshake with a dead person — for that is the amount of enthusiasm I'm getting.  "Like, just picture us, the past hatred between us, blossoming into a beautiful friendship."

"A... What now?" Levi's face would be funny in any other situation — but right now, it isn't funny.  He looks absolutely thrown by the mere mention of considering me as a tenant.  Ouch.  "A roommate? You want to be my roommate?"

"Yes — you could teach me how to garden and stuff and, like, do manly things — like,"  I fluster, waving my free hand towards the ceiling,  "lift stuff and then put it back down.  Uh.  Pilates, or like, whatever guys like you do to get that amount of arm muscle," I pick at the scuff marks on the table, "or I could totally stay out of your way and pretend to be a houseplant or piece of furniture whenever we happen to cross paths, and it will be like I absolutely don't exist and you will never wake up with the sudden urge to murder me in cold blood."

"I don't, mm," Levi blinks again and is suddenly standing — the sound of the chair against the ground startling me into a full jump.   "I don't understand."

"You, me."  I point between us, exasperated and awkward.  "Live together.  You take money from me.  I hand deliver your paper.  I pretend to be a big expensive house plant so that you like me.  See?  Jokes.  I've got those too."

"Live together."  His face pinches.  The flirting is absolutely gone.  Finito.  It isn't exactly confidence-inspiring.  Then he grabs his water bottle, twists the cap back on his water bottle, and shoves his pencil down into the wire curl of his notebook.  "I don't...."

Equally flustered, I stand up to block him,

"Levi — I just thought,"

"I need to...  Call me — not now?  Later," Levi runs his hand over his face,  "I mean, uh, do you have my number?"

He jots it down quickly, slides it across the table like we mustn't ever touch ever again,

Then makes his way around my chair and heads towards the first shelving of books —

I nod, and Levi seems a little cornered,

"Yeah? Right. Just call me." Levi looks like all his emotions are constipating him.  "I'm late — for things."

"Oh... Yes.  I — okay then." I blather, trying to think of something else to say, but the entrance is already chiming with his abrupt exit.

What an absolute weirdo.

I'm alone in the library, confused and mildly embarrassed, but I add his phone number to my cell anyway.